


all secrets known

by palmsxieri



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Accidental Outing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also i suck at tagging so i’m sorry about that, the metro team is really just a group of bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsxieri/pseuds/palmsxieri
Summary: “Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” Nolan starts, and Travis huffs in agreement. “But you really need to see this. Can I come in?”“Fine,” Travis says after a minute. “But be quiet, Nico’s still sleeping.”He moves and Nolan shuffles to the small table in the hotel, sitting down.“It, um. It’ll be easier if I just show you.”Travis sits down across from him and Nolan hands over his phone, and sits patiently.He gives Nolan a look before reading the phone, and he nearly drops it when he sees the headline.“Getting it on off the ice: rivalries be damned as relationship between the NHL stars of Philadelphia and Newark is announced.”
Relationships: Nico Hischier/Travis Konecny
Comments: 23
Kudos: 119





	all secrets known

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so i worked on this for about 4 months and i think i’m pretty proud of it. enjoy!
> 
> title is from “all secrets known” by alice in chains. it has nothing to do with the song, but it works so here we are. 
> 
> also, if you or anyone you know is mentioned, please click away now.
> 
> quick tw: two characters are outed without consent twice. one character vomits, although it is not graphically depicted.
> 
> also, a big big BIG shoutout to the groupchat and jazz, who was my cheerleader for this fic.

Whoever the fuck decided to have the All Star Game in St. Louis, Nico thought (while staring blankly into his glass of scotch), deserved to have an  _ extremely _ civil conversation with himself. And Travis, because it’s Travis and he’d like a word about it too. He absently drums a finger on the table quietly, glancing around the bar every so often. He’s distantly aware that the back of his neck is starting to feel damp with sweat, and he’s also aware that he’s extremely underdressed for the fancy hotel - Travis’s old hoodie and a pair of Mooseheads sweats just won’t cut it, Hischier. The condensation on the glass makes a ring on the wooden table and Nico wipes it with his sleeve, taking a small sip. 

The elevator beeps and he swivels his head, only to be disappointed at the gaze of a middle aged woman and three young kids. He gives them a small smile and they scurry off, and he’s left to sulk in his drink once more. He holds the glass close to his lips and stares off, thinking about the first time he met Travis. Of course, it started through Nolan. 

It was always, “Nico, you’ll never believe what TK did at practice today.” And Nico would always listen, because he’s a great friend, alright? And when Nolan decided to have the two of them meet, Nico almost tripped over himself when Travis walked in the room. Not his finest moment. 

In hindsight, it’s probably the best decision Nolan had ever made in his life, because Nico and Travis exchanged numbers and grew together over the last two years. 

Currently, though, the ice cubes were melting into his scotch and the burn of alcohol was dampened a little, but the tap on his shoulder was enough to make him choke and gather the attention of at least half the bar. 

“What the fu-” Nico says (very loudly) when he sees Travis’s dumb face grinning at him underneath an even dumber snapback. “Uh, what the heck.” 

“Wanted to surprise you,” Travis says, giddy, straightening out one of Nico’s sleeves. “I was wondering where this sweatshirt went.” 

“Oh, it just happened to get lost in the laundry,” Nico smirks. “Two can play this game, Konecny. C’mon, we’re rooming together.” 

“How did you get that to happen?” Travis asks, struggling to keep up with Nico as he walks briskly down the hall. “Jesus Christ, slow down, it’s not my fault I’m short.” 

“It’s definitely your fault.” Nico swipes the keycard and shoves Travis against the door, crowding in his personal space. “I missed you.” 

“Mhm, I missed you too,” Travis says, staring up into Nico’s face. He leans in and bites at Nico’s lower lip, encasing him in a searing kiss. 

They kiss for a few minutes or hours, it’s not evident, but Nico eventually gets his hands on Travis’s ass and pushes a surprisingly high noise out of the shorter man. 

“Hmm,” Nico chuckles, moving his hand back up to ruffle Travis’s shirt. “We don’t have much time tonight, but I’m going to take you apart tomorrow after skills.” 

“Fuck,” Travis hisses, carding his hand through Nico’s hair. “Fuck.”

***

_ “Is there anyone in particular that you maybe haven’t gotten to know on a personal level that you kind of wanted to meet this weekend?”  _

_ “Um, actually yeah,” Travis says, raising his eyebrows. “I heard, ah, Nico was buddies with Patrick, so I was looking forward to meeting him, ‘cause me and Patty get along pretty good, so.”  _

***

Nico stares at his laptop while Travis is taking a shower, replaying his interview at least ten times before registering what Travis actually said. 

“Why’d you say you wanted to meet me?” he shouts, tearing his eyes away from the screen. 

“I panicked,” Travis shouts back, over the water. 

“Lovely,” Nico mutters under his breath. He opens his mouth to shout something else, but is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

“Can I help - what?” 

Expecting room service, Nico does a double take when he finds Nolan and Carter standing at his door. 

Nolan shoulders past him and flops on the bed in lieu of greeting. 

“Hi,” Carter says, because he has some class. He gives Nico a pat on the shoulder and sits on the bed like a normal person. 

“What?” Nico says again, closing the door gingerly. “What are you doing here? Wait, no, how did you even get my room number?” 

“I may or may not have asked Blackwood for a favor,” Carter admits. tapping a finger annoyingly on the bed. Nolan claps his hand over, silencing him. “Your teammates aren’t very useful when it comes to secrets.” 

“Tell me about it,” Nico mumbles under his breath. “So, uh. Why are you here, exactly?” 

“Where’s TK?” Nolan asks, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. 

“In the shower. Why?” 

“Why’d the two of you get a room together, huh?” Carter asks innocently. “Everyone else has separate rooms, even people on the same teams.” 

Nico remains silent, staring daggers into the bedsheets beside Nolan. 

“Hey babe, do you have any of that strawberry scented body wash with you?” Travis calls from the bathroom, and Nico wants to bury himself in a hole and die. 

Nolan and Carter share a look. 

“Babe, huh,” Nolan says drily. “That’s new.” 

Carter giggles, and Nico takes back anything nice he’s ever thought about him. 

The shower water turns off and the silence weighs over the room, making Nico curl in on himself. He fists a hand in his hoodie, standing perfectly still. 

“Did you not hear me?” Travis says, opening the door with a towel hanging over his face. There’s also one hanging suspiciously low from his hips.

Nolan clears his throat, making Travis jump. “What the fuck.” 

“Hey, TK,” Carter says happily, folding his hands together. 

Travis looks at Nico, eyes bulging. He gestures wildly to his teammates and makes a noise. 

Nico stares back, mouth dry. 

“So are you fucking or what,” Nolan says.

“None of your business,” Travis snaps, surprising everyone in the room. “Get out.” 

“What?” Carter says, innocently confused. 

“Get out,” Travis repeats, shaking his hand toward the door. 

Nolan looks at Nico, but he refuses to meet the taller man’s gaze. 

“Okay,” Nolan says slowly, rolling off the bed and out the room. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Carter says, before closing the door with a soft click. 

Nico walks over to the bed and sits down gingerly, folding his hands together. Travis sits next to him, still in his towel. “You’re gonna get the bed wet.” 

“Are you okay?” Travis asks, disregarding the soaked sheets.

“Not really,” Nico mumbles, leaning his head on Travis’s shoulder. “I know Nolan’s like, our friend and everything, but I wanted to come out to him myself.” 

“I’m sorry,” Travis sighs. He grabs one of Nico’s hands and threads their fingers together. “I probably shouldn’t have yelled at them, but you looked so scared. I know this is hard.” 

“Well, the cat’s out of the backpack, or whatever the saying is,” Nico says, standing up. “I’ll be okay. Now get your butt off the bed before you soak the mattress. And please put some clothes on.” 

“What, you don’t want all this?” Travis laughs, gesturing to himself. He lets the towel drift a little lower. 

“As much as I do, we have to play hockey in a little bit, remember? Gotta rep Philly, we can’t have their star player late.” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, dropping the towel completely and sauntering toward his suitcase. “You can get all this after the game.” 

  
  


***

The surge of an All Star Game is everything and nothing like he expected. It’s loud and electric, but there’s an added charge, to prove yourself worthy of being there. He stares at the scoreboard with pride during the Fastest Skater event, watching as different colored jerseys whip by his face. 

When Travis’s name gets called, his heart swells, and if he taps his stick a little forceful, it’s his business. 

“That’s your boy,” Slavin says from his right, giving him a little nudge. 

“Damn straight,” Nico says. Then, “Wait, what?” 

“Relax, no one told me,” Slavin laughs, patting Nico’s shoulder. “You've got a pretty insistent look in your eyes, but it’s blind to the straight eye.” 

Nico’s eyes widen in shock, but Slavin just smiles. 

“Don’t worry about it, kid. He’s got the same eyes,” he says then. “Takes one to know one.” 

He skates over to the rest of the Metro team, leaving Nico to process. 

Travis skates over the finish line with a grin on his face, and his heart swoops. 

“Not bad for a country hick,” Travis pants, leaning against the boards. “That took too much energy.” 

“Old man,” Nico teases, flicking Travis’s hat off his head. 

“I am gonna get you back for that later,” Travis says, grumbling. 

“Oh, are you? Gonna have to work for it, bud,” Nico smirks, skating away and leaving Travis to stutter in his wake. 

***

“Get this, get this. Where does George Washington keep his armies?” 

Nico and Travis share a glance, both holding their own beers. A bunch of the participants from the skills competition decided to hang out at a local bar, and most of them were on the pleasant side of buzzed. 

“In his sleevies!” Barzal finishes from his end of the table, enticing bouts of laughter all around. 

“That was so bad,” Travis giggles, hiding his laughter in Nico’s sleeve. “Extremely terrible.” 

“And yet you’re laughing,” Nico reminds him. He gingerly takes the beer out of Travis’s hand and wipes the condensation off of it. “You, sir, are  _ drunk _ .” 

“Meh,” comes the response. “I’d say tipsy, at best. Last time I was drunk with you, we fucked in the bathroom at a night club. That was a fun night.” 

“ _ Travis _ ,” Nico hisses, trying to smother his laughter. “We are in public, for the love of god.” 

“Oh, whatever,” Travis says with a wave of his hand. “None of these guys are going to remember tonight in the morning anyway. I mean did you see Mitch before? He was literally dancing on the table to Miley Cirus.” 

“Fair.” 

“Can we go find a corner to make out in now?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Nico says, pretending to be annoyed.

Travis grabs his hand and drags him to one of the single stall bathrooms, pressing him to a wall. 

“Hi,” he says, putting a hand on Nico’s waist. 

“Hey yourself,” Nico says, getting a thigh between Travis’s legs. The shorter man’s hips buck up, and he drags them into the bathroom. 

Nico locks the door and presses Travis against the sink, sliding his hand into his pants. 

“You know,” Travis says, groaning when Nico wraps a hand around his member. “You’re not even remotely drunk. I’m beginning to think you actually like sneaking around like this.” 

Nico grips Travis’s chin, tilting his gaze up. “I don’t reveal my secrets.” 

He finally starts moving his hand, making Travis shudder. 

“I don’t know, man,” he pants, gripping the sink harder. “I seen to remember you having fun the last time we did this. And the time before that, and the time before that.” 

“Shut up,” Nico growls, shoving two fingers in Travis’s mouth. “Someone’s going to hear you, and I don’t feel like explaining why my hand is in your pants right now.” 

Travis flicks his tongue, making Nico shiver. His pace quickens, but he keeps his touches light, keeping Travis on edge. 

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Nico says, resting his hand on Travis’s thigh, much to his disappointment. “You’re gonna come, and then I’m going back to the table to let you clean up. Get a beer on your way back, to make sure no one’s suspicious. When you finish that beer, we’ll go back to the hotel. Got it?” 

Travis hums around Nico’s fingers, and bites on them a little when Nico’s hand is back around his dick. 

“Ow,” Nico grumbles, tightening his hand. Travis’s head rolls back, snapping upright when Nico brushes a thumb over the head of his dick. 

“Shit,” he slurs, muffled. His whines get louder, and his knuckles are white against the sink. 

Nico rolls his hand over the head of his dick once more and it’s over, his orgasm washing over him in waves. 

“Right then,” Nico says, removing his hands. He washes them with a little soap and water before grabbing a paper towel and leaving the bathroom. 

Travis lets his weight lean on the wall, running a hand through his hair. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters to himself. 

He splashes some cold water on his face and dries it off, attempting to make it look like he wasn’t just corrupted in a bathroom at a bar in St. Louis. 

“Fuck this,” he says, and opens the door to return to the table. 

  
  


***

  
  
  


Travis wakes up in a tangle of both his own limbs and Nico’s, half of his body wrapped tightly in the blanket that the poor hotel cleaners will have to burn, probably. His hair is a mess and a few strands are stuck to his cheek. Next to him, Nico is snoring softly, his hair fanned out on the pillow. He looks like a god, which is unfair, in Travis’s opinion. 

His staring is interrupted by a few sharp knocks on the door. Groaning, he checks the time - 8:42 AM - and wonders who in the everloving shit could be rapping on his door at this hour. 

Travis rolls gracelessly out of bed and pulls on a pair of Nico’s sweats, hopefully without a number. The knocks start again, and Travis curses them out in his head. 

He swings open the door and is almost levelled by Nolan’s gaze, before fixating his worst glare. 

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” Nolan starts, and Travis huffs in agreement. “But you really need to see this. Can I come in?” 

“Fine,” Travis says after a minute. “But be quiet, Nico’s still sleeping.” 

He moves and Nolan shuffles to the small table in the hotel, sitting down. 

“It, um. It’ll be easier if I just show you.” 

Travis sits down across from him and Nolan hands over his phone, and sits patiently. 

He gives Nolan a look before reading the phone, and he nearly drops it when he sees the headline. 

**_“Getting it on off the ice: rivalries be damned as relationship between the NHL stars of Philadelphia and Newark is announced.”_ **

_ Pictured below is New Jersey Devils forward Nico Hischier, 21, and Philadelphia Flyers forward Travis Konecny, 23. The photo was taken at a bar in St. Louis, Missouri, shortly after the All Star Skills Competition.  _

Travis grips the phone tighter, holding his breath when he sees the picture. It’s definitely them, there’s no playing it off now, but it doesn’t make it any less unbearable. 

“Take me somewhere, I’m gonna be sick,” Travis says, gasping for breath. 

Nolan shoots up and grabs Travis’s arms, hauling him into the small hotel bathroom. He gets the lid off of the toilet, and Travis throws up, losing whatever beer and shitty snacks he had the night before. He heaves his guts before hacking up a lung, making Nico knock on the door. 

“Hey, Trav? Are you okay in there?” 

“Shit, I’ll go get him,” Nolan says, and Travis dismisses him with a wave of his hand. 

He leans his forehead on the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, flushing it. He stands up shakily, rinsing his mouth out, not that it does anything to tame whatever died in there. 

A loud smack outside gets his attention, and he almost rips the door off the hinges to get out of the bathroom. 

Nico is on the floor, head between his knees, breathing shallow. Nolan is right next to him, running a hand up and down his back, trying to help, but it’s not working. He sends a desperate glance at Travis, who rushes over. 

“Hey, hey, Nics, it’s okay, I’m here,” Travis says, gripping his shoulders. 

“What are we going to do,” Nico says back, sniffling. “People  _ know _ , Travis, they know, and we’re gonna get kicked out of hockey, and people are going to hate us, and-” 

“ _ Hey _ ,” Travis interrupts, grabbing Nico’s face. “Look at me, no one is kicking us off anything, you got that? And if people hate us, then they hate us, you can’t do anything about that. I love you, you know that, right? We can get through this together. I’m not exactly sure what that means yet, but whatever it means, we’ll do it together.” 

Nico looks up, eyes wet and brimmed with tears. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Travis asks, and Nico nods. He presses a kiss to the younger man’s forehead before pulling him to his feet. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just go,” Nolan says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I hope this all works out for you guys, I do.” 

“Nolan, wait.” 

Nolan turns, hand on the doorknob. 

“Thank you,” Travis says, and Nico hums in agreement. 

He nods, and leaves the room. 

“Alright,” Travis says, taking a deep breath. “I think the best thing to do for now is eat something, and then talk to our agents. And, we still have a game to play tonight, All Star or not.” 

“Yeah,” Nico mumbles. He leans his shoulder on Travis. “Thanks.” 

Travis tilts his head up and gives him a soft kiss, stroking his cheek.

“We’re in this together,” he reiterates when they pull back. “No matter what.” 

  
  


***

  
  
  


They do a conference call with both of their agents, their GMs, and coaches. The first thing they’re told is that they aren’t being traded or let go, and that idea can flush itself down the drain. 

“We want to make sure that these news replies are whatever  _ you _ want them to be, not what the reporters want,” Vigneault says, voice scratchy through the laptop speakers. “You have every right to deny a question, and whoever says otherwise can go fuck themselves.” 

Travis chuckles at his coach’s vulgar language, although it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Agreed,” comes Nasreddine’s reply. “We want to know the  _ second _ someone says something to you, got it? People in this league have gotten away with shit for far too long.” 

And that, that sentence right there, gives Travis a tiny sliver of hope. It’s not much, but he’s suddenly glad that this guy’s the interim coach for the Devils. 

They conclude the meeting shortly after that, ensuring that yes, they know the picture is pretty much everywhere and no, they don’t want to deny what’s already been seen by thousands of people. 

Nico leans into his shoulder when Travis shuts his laptop. 

“We got this,” Nico mumbles. “I have a feeling we’ve got a bunch of allies here tonight.” 

“Fuck, I forgot we had a hockey game to play tonight. Team Metro all the way, yeah? Maybe they’ll put us on a line together.” 

That gets a laugh out of Nico, a beautiful sound, and Travis smiles to himself. They’ll be alright. 

  
  


***

  
  


So, decidedly, they are not alright. 

Their car is late to pick them up and Travis forgets to put socks on (“How the fuck do you forget socks, Travis”), and he never had any coffee that morning. 

“Fuck,” Nico says passionately when they’re dropped off at the arena, dusting off his pants. 

“Indeed,” Travis mumbles, patting his shoulder. “Uh, so. I’m not entirely sure if this is going to be any different than it was yesterday. Like, I know there won’t be another red carpet, but, I think we’ll still have to do interviews?” 

“Just have to go for it, I guess,” Nico says, shrugging a shoulder. “I mean, it’s a good thing we’re next to each other in the locker room. And I think the guys will be chill. It’s more the reporters I’m worried about.” 

“Remember what AV said,” Travis reminds him, “we can deny any questions, and call off the interviews at any time. We’ll be okay.” 

The locker room is full when they walk in, but nobody bats an eye at them. The stalls creak when they sit down, making Travis wince, but the chatter between the Atlantic and Metropolitan boys continues. 

It’s not until he feels something flat whack the side of his head, that he’s really snapped out of it. He looks up and sees a ball of tape at his feet, and Mitch, with his arm outstretched, on the other side of the room. He gets a thumbs up and a smile from the Leafs player, and the knots in his stomach loosen a little. 

To his right, reporters are setting up their camera next to Nico’s stall. He tenses briefly, putting a reassuring hand on Nico’s thigh. 

“So, Nico,” one young reporter starts, a sparkle in her eye. “How does it feel to be a role model for young kids struggling with the same things you’re going through?” 

“You know,” he starts, and Travis can feel him relax a little. “I just hope that I can set an example for them, and that they know that it doesn’t matter if you’re straight or not, that you can still play hockey as much as the next person.”

“Do you think that this is all a big scandal so that the NHL can make money off of you?” Another reporter asks, and Travis feels Nico tense all over again. 

“The NHL isn’t making money off of myself and Travis being outed. And my relationship isn’t a scandal. Next question.” 

Travis looks around the room, and all of the hockey players are staring daggers at the reporters. 

“Did you jump on the gay bandwagon just to be trendy?” someone else asks, and Travis can feel the explosion coming even before it does.

“Are you fucking kidding,” Nico spits, throwing his arms up. “You think this is some kind of joke? Travis and I have been in a relationship for a little over two years now, and we just got outed to the world. And you think I did all of this just to become trendy? Are you fucking serious?” 

Travis jerks up and grabs Nico before he can say anything else, pulling him away from the reporters. 

“We’re done here,” he growls out at the swarm of reporters, turning to Nico and cradling his face. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” he nods. “Just pissed.” 

He can see their teammates herding the reporters out, and he pulls Nico in for a hug. 

“They’re gone,” Slavin says from his side, giving Nico a pat. “Take all the time you need, guys. We’ll clear out for a bit.” 

Travis watches them go, stroking a hand over Nico’s cheek. “Jesus.” 

“I’m fine, Trav, really,” Nico says when he turns. “I had a feeling this would happen. We’re going to have to get used to it.” 

“I hate that,” Travis sighs. “We shouldn’t have to deal with this just because we’re in a relationship.” 

“I know, I do, but this is just a sliver of what other people go through. We have to power through and just focus on playing this hockey game tonight.” 

Travis nods and grabs his stick. “Let’s go beat Atlantic ass.” 

  
  


***

  
  
  


The actual All Star games are just as electrifying as the skills competition, and there’s even more motivation this time around - to prove that they still belong in hockey, because there will always be people who say they don’t. 

To say Travis is jittery is an understatement - it takes him three tries to get his gloves on properly. Nico tapes his stick wrong and wastes half a roll before finally getting it right. 

“Christ,” Travis says passionately, standing in the tunnel. 

His Metro teammates give him a pat on the shoulder, and he waits impatiently for his name to be called. He and Nico anticipate boos, slurs, even for stuff to be thrown onto the ice, but he’s never heard an arena so  _ loud _ . And it takes him a minute to realize that they’re cheering. 

Next to him, Nico has the biggest smile on his face, and he thinks that they’ll be alright. 

  
  


***

“So, you guys have been out for about a few weeks now, and this is your first game playing against each other. Do you think there’s more motivation to win now?” 

“Oh, for sure,” Travis replies, smirking. “It sucks that he isn’t playing, though; I wanted to rub this one in his face.” 

The reporters conclude their pregame interview and Travis is left in his stall chattering with Claude. 

“After the game, you call him, I want to give him the shovel talk,” Claude says, and Travis can’t help but flinch at the murderous look on his face. “I’ll be nice.” 

Travis could call his shit right there, but he chooses not to, instead working on taping his socks. 

“TK, come here, look at this,” Nolan says from his left, punching his shoulder repeatedly. “It’s important.” 

“What,” he says back, not looking up from his feet. Taping his socks is a work of art, really, and it requires concentration. 

“ _ Travis _ ,” Nolan hisses, and he never uses Travis’s first name, what the fuck. 

“Fuck’s sake,  _ what _ ,” he spits back, and almost falls out of his stall when he turns his head. 

“Hi,” Nico says, like he didn’t just give Travis the best surprise of his life. 

“What the fuck,” Travis whispers, and throws himself at Nico. 

“Jeez,” he says, catching Travis by his shoulders. “Nice to see you too.” 

“What the fuck,” Travis says again, louder, gaining the attention of the rest of the locker room, specifically Claude. “How are you here? Huh?” 

“I drove here,” Nico says pointedly, patting his head. “I can still use my knee, it’s just a little swollen. Please don’t give yourself an aneurysm.” 

Travis burrows his face in Nico’s neck, and Nolan gags. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles to the general area, and wraps his arms around Nico’s waist. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” Nico whispers. “But your captain is giving me a very pointed glare and I’m scared.” 

“Oh buddy,” Travis winces and steps back. “I can’t help you with that. You’re on your own.” 

“Nico,” Claude smiles, all teeth. “Care to step outside with me for a moment?” 

Nico nods hesitantly, glaring at Travis. “Traitor.” 

He watches the two leave the room, and giggles. 

“Hey, lover boy, get your shit on,” Sean grunts from across the room. “Stare at the door any longer and I’ll fine your whole ass.” 

Travis flips him off and returns to his stall, hoping that Claude doesn’t scare Nico shitless, but some things just can’t be avoided. 

**Author's Note:**

> congrats, you made it to the end!
> 
> comments fuel the writer :)


End file.
